I went inside, calling out for Eliana and Zoya. When they didn’t answer immediately, I was tempted to freak out but I kept my shit together—the prospects had told me that no one had left the house all day, neither, had there been any visitors. I eventually found them in the backyard, spread out on a polka dot blanket, each of them with sketchpads resting on their laps. Zoya’s lopsided pigtails caught the light, the wisps at the bottom of the braids looked like golden threads. Seeing them together shouldn’t have made me feel softer and warmer, like I had a right to that kind of future, but it did.
Zoya looked up first, smiling when she spotted me.
I could almosthearit, the girly shout of “Daddy” that I longed to hear, but the joy on her face was enough for now. “Hey baby girl. Did you have a good time with Eliana?”
She nodded, her bobbing head made her pigtails swing adorably. She looked back at Eliana who gave her an encouraging nod and a sweet smile. With that encouragement, she produced a sheet of paper with a wary smile.
“For you,” she whispered so softly I wasn’t even sure I heard it or imagined it.
My heart pounded hard against my chest at those two softly spoken words.
She was coming back to me.
I took the drawing, expecting it to be like so many of the others, well done in that childlike way with oversized eyes and lips, with limbs too small for the bodies. This was different, though.
It was me and Zoya, sitting at our kitchen table piled high with food. She loved breakfast and the drawing showed pancakes, bacon, fruit, and a giant, cartoonish jar of jam. We wore bigger smiles than I was sure either of us had ever worn. My figure was massive next to hers. Even Hoppy had his own seat at the table. But it wasn’t the details that stood out or even the smiles, it was how fucking good it was.
“Holy shit, Zoya, this is really good!” I couldn’t keep the pride out of my voice. I traced the outline of my jaw with a fingertip. I’d never been able to draw a straight line in my life, but she had incredible talent. “Wow, it’s… just wow.”
Zoya beamed with pride.
“Thank you for this, sweetheart.”
I vowed, then and there, that I would do better by my kid. I would do whatever it took to get her speaking again. She deserved a better life than she had, and if that meant getting to the bottom of my little girl’s silence, that’s what I had to do.
Eliana brushed past us, giving me a small smile and a nod as she went inside.
I dropped down to my knees so Zoya and I were eye to eye. “I know I told you she’d be staying tonight, but I hope it’s all right with you if Eliana stays with us for a few days while her apartment gets fixed. Is that okay, sweetheart?”
She nodded, a small smile curled her lips as if she was getting the one thing she wanted most.
“Good. I have some time, want to draw together?”
Surprise flashed in her eyes, but she nodded, taking my hand in hers as she guided me to the polka dot blanket now warmed by the sun.
chapter Ten
Eliana
“It’s my car. I’m driving,” I insisted, hand wrapped tightly around my keys while I stared into Sledge’s scowling, handsome face. Rebel and his wife, Nikki, had shown up with their daughter to keep Zoya company while I gathered my things from the motel, with a big, bad-ass biker escort.
“I don’t think so,” he said firmly, his voice even and unshakeable.
I growled my displeasure and turned away, determined to get in the driver’s seat and go get my things. “Bossy and annoying,” I mumbled under my breath.
“I am your boss,” he whispered in my ear, his body suddenly too close and too warm. “Bossy goes along with the territory.”
My body trembled with need as his hand slid from my shoulder down my arm. His palm was hot, his hand slightly callused and completely comforting. His touch left me vibrating with arousal and shaken from its intensity.
And then the keys slipped from my hand and his warmth was gone.
“Thief!” I accused but it didn’t matter, one arm had already wrapped around my midsection and pulled me from the driver’s side door. “Stop it, right now.”
Sledge laughed, the sound deep and rich, the kind that was like a naughty slap to the pussy. “The fight is over,” he said, guiding me around to the passenger seat.
I pouted while he gave me a gentle shove into the car and fastened my seatbelt. “Ass.”
He laughed again, closing the door before he strutted back around the car like he was showing off, drawing my eye to his muscled legs wrapped in denim. He slid behind the wheel, quickly adjusting the seat before he took control of the vehicle—myvehicle—and we got on the road.
